Morning mist fills the Oasis skyline. The city’s dew dappled green-roof canopy enjoys a soft fog. The bright lights of towering advertising screens diffuse colorfully across the city’s natural haze. Deacon walks out of a Stubb’s Café. He holds a fresh cup of black coffee in a bright orange and pink Styrofoam-wicker blend cup. Steam emits from the open cup like a volcano preparing to erupt. The sun has yet to rise past the skyline, so the air is still cold. He didn’t get much sleep last night. He’s been stationed on this planet for years, yet he still isn’t used to sleeping under gravity. The coffee is helping some.

Deacon enters the front entrance of The Mare. The dining room is an elegant space with glossy floors, dark orange décor and deep green furniture with copper accents. The aesthetic is a combination of a luxury airline and a seventies science fiction film, a stark pairing that meshes well due to its intrinsic crossover. Though in this case, the warm decor is a direct reference to the passenger cabins of the original spacecraft used to establish the first Lunar Federation colony in nineteen seventy-nine. A perfect homage to the Prelude. Logically, this retro industrial aesthetic shouldn’t belong in such a refined establishment. However, the Prelude seems to be the universal exception thanks to its ceaseless capacity for glamorization. After all, it was the time before the Sunshine asteroid destroyed the world—back when Earth was a paradise.

He walks past an empty hosting station and past the sparsely populated tables, towards a large service desk posted at the far end of the restaurant in front of the kitchen entrance. The desk is unoccupied. Deacon looks around. The only employees visible are already busy serving other customers.

‘Short handed? Lousy service?’ He speculates internally.

A voice enters his mind. It’s another crow operator, however, unlike the other crows before, this operator’s voice is distinctly male with a thick Kiwi accent.

"Morning, Blue. Tyrannis is on the move." The crow says.

"Thanks." Deacon responds out loud.

"Pardon me?" Polard asks.

Deacon looks across the desk and sees Chef Polard standing with his hands folded neatly in front of him. His voice is soft and controlled now that he is on the restaurant floor.

"How may I help you, sir?" He asks.

One glance with his Iris system and Deacon is able to identify Polard in an instant.

"I’m looking for the manager. Pablo Polard?" Deacon inquires with feigned ignorance.

"Ah. Well, I am he. How may I help you?"

"My name is Detective Deacon Blue. You filed a stolen vehicle report yesterday afternoon stating that your employee, Sebastian Moreno, made off with a company vehicle and its cargo. I’m here to follow up on that."

The look within Polard’s eyes shifts subtly. The friendly exterior is unable to hide the feelings of resentment lurking within.

"Ah. I see. Well, what else can I tell you that wasn’t included in my report?"

"Did you notice anything peculiar about his behavior yesterday? Anything unusual?"

"No. He was acting normal. Though I didn’t see him much that day—I had other things to take care of. He spent most of his shift with another cook, Delphine Affagato."

"Is Ms. Affogato here today?"

"She is…" Polard checks his tablet. "Ah, perfect timing. She’s currently on her break. Would you like to speak with her?"

"I would. Thank you." Deacon says with a nod.

Polard leads Deacon through the Mare’s kitchen. Chefs weave through stainless-steel corridors, narrowly avoiding one another as they work in silent anguish. Like the crew of a sinking ship, working in unison to save one another, but mostly working to save themselves.

They reach the rear loading bay, where Delphine leans against the railing in front of the elevated cook’s entrance door. She raises a rose gold vape pen to her mouth and inhales. She exhales a small puff of strawberry flavored smoke.

"Ah, there you are. Delphine, this is Detective… Blue. He is here to investigate Sebastian and our… missing delivery." Polard explains.

"Oh, okay. Hello." Delphine responds, her voice is quiet.

"Good morning." Deacon says. He turns to Polard. "It seems that you have a lot on your plate at the moment. Please don’t let this investigation hold you up. I’ll have a few questions for you soon."

"Ah… Right. Of course. I will be in my office when you need me. It was a pleasure to meet you, Detective Blue."

Deacon nods and Polard walks away, leaving just the detective and Delphine standing above the back lot.

"Alright. So. Can you explain why your boss sent two professional cooks beyond the colony walls to pick up a delivery?"

Delphine tilts her head, eyebrows raised with a slight smile. The question has clearly thrown her off.

"In all honesty… I don’t think I can." She answers.

"I figured as much." Deacon smiles. "Is this kind of thing business as usual around here?"

"Um… yeah? Are you… you’re with the Vanguard?"

"I am." Deacon lies. "You can be honest with me, Ms. Affogato."

Delphine’s shoulders tense. For as perceptive as Deacon is, it isn’t until this moment that he realizes that she is afraid of him. She thinks that he’s with the Lunar government. He changes his approach. Deacon pulls out a vape pen of his own, a thin silver cylinder that resembles a chrome cigarette.

"You mind if I join you?" He asks with a smile.

"Not at all." Delphine lifts her vape as a sort of cheers.

Deacon takes a long drag from his pen. He exhales slowly, blowing the smoke outward in a precise stream.

"I’ll be real with you… I’m a private eye hired by Sebastian’s folks," Deacon lies again. "Telling people I’m with the government opens up a lot of doors for me, you know?"

Delphine’s posture relaxes slightly.

"So, it’s that serious then? Did he actually do it?"

"I’m not sure," Deacon lies again. "But if he did, I’d focus on figuring out why." He mixes in a truth.

"Okay. Well, to answer your question… yes. Polard has a tendency to make unusual decisions. Sebastian and I weren’t even supposed to be in yesterday; we both had the day off."

"Polard called you in on your day off?" Deacon says as he pulls out a small notepad and begins jotting down information. "Is this a regular occurrence, too?"

(Image of notepad. Polard has been visually written off by Deacon.)

"Surprisingly not. I’m pretty sure he only called us in because of the lockdown. We’re short staffed on a good day."

Deacon nods as his previous suspicion has been confirmed; the Mare’s lousy service is due to a lack of employees.

"So, working conditions are rough around here. Your coworker, Sebastian Moreno, did he have any issues with management?" Deacon asks.

Delphine laughs. "Everyone does. Sebastian was no different from anyone else here."

Her voice quickly shifts into a somber tone. She lowers her voice into a near whisper: "He’s an honest person. He didn’t do anything wrong."

The Iris system reads Delphine’s body language and pheromones, indicating that she is being completely truthful. He is momentarily distracted by how visibly afraid she is to speak her mind.

"What makes you so sure?" He lowers his voice in kind.

"Sebastian’s my friend. And I’m pretty sure I’m the only friend he’s got around here. He wouldn’t just take off with the company’s property."

Delphine shakes her head and takes another toke from her pen before continuing.

"Running from the law? The man’s overworked like the rest of us. He wouldn’t complicate his life with extra work—especially off the clock."

Deacon chuckles. "You may be right about him. But I have to perform my due diligence."

He jots down a few notes before asking: "How long have you known Mr. Moreno?"

"Not long. He was hired a year ago, but we didn't really start talking to each other until… maybe four months ago." Delphine explains.

"How often do you see him outside of work?"

"Not often. Last night was the first time we actually hung out together. I wish we could've done it more."

"You don’t think there’ll be another chance?

"Well. Maybe. But between all of this and my new job, I don’t know how often I’ll be seeing him." She continues.

The withheld information makes Deacon curious.

"Congrats on the new job. What is it? If you don’t mind me asking." He asks as he pockets his notepad.

"Thanks! I was… not sober when I applied, so I wasn’t expecting to get it at all." Delphine laughs nervously. "I’m going to be the head of catering for a film crew. I thought it was just a weekend gig, but it turns out this is way more involved. Lots of travel apparently and I would love to be out of town for a few months."

Deacon’s interest fades. "Oh, that’s interesting. What kind of documentary is it?"

"I thought it was about dinosaurs at first, but it turns out they’re trying to research a pirate ship that looks like a dinosaur." She explains.

His interest returns tenfold. "Do you happen to know the name of the ship they’re chasing?"

"Oh. Hm. I was skimming the offer letter before you walked out here… I think it’s called The Dead Tyrant?"

Deacon reaches for his notepad. "And when do you start your new job?"

"I’m pretty sure the crew is leaving town in two weeks." Delphine says just before taking another toke. "You looking for a change of profession or something?"

"Nah. Nothing like that. I just like dinosaurs."

Delphine begins to laugh but tumbles into a cough as her lungs are still full of smoke.

Deacon looks serious. "What?"